


Past Meets Present

by ashinan



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Child Abuse, Childhood, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-05-27
Updated: 2012-07-10
Packaged: 2017-11-06 03:23:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/414174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashinan/pseuds/ashinan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony learned about family not from his father, but from Peggy Carter, someone who personally knew his hero, Captain America. This is where it starts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I originally posted this on my tumblr, but I'm stalled on a certain chapter, so I figure if I start posting on here, it will get my ass in gear haha. This is kind of progressive fic that starts in Tony's childhood and will end in adulthood. Will eventually be Steve/Tony. Enjoy!

Tony slid the toy cars over the banister, pursing his lips as they caught an edge and careened over the side. He made a falling noise, crashing them into the hardwood floor and making small explosions sounds. There were imaginary people screaming and toy carnage _everywhere_. Tony groped behind him, grabbing his Captain America and Red Skull dolls and placed them in the middle of it all.

“What is the meaning of this?” he asked, trying for a deeper voice. The cars were tossed in the air and Tony laughed, going for maniacal. He frowned, tried again, and then continued to move everything around.

There was a crash, something that sounded almost like metal groaning, and a thick plume of smoke rose from beneath the stairwell Tony was perched on. He peered between the slats of the bannister, biting his lip. His father was known for blowing things up, known for causing all kinds of havoc. The first few times Tony had asked if he was okay, or if the house was going to explode, his father had coughed out an assurance and disappeared back into his lab. Recently however, Howard had ignored him, muttering quietly to himself as smoke curled ethereal around him. Tony wanted, desperately, to ask if his father was all right now, but knowing that, knowing he would probably just be brushed off, made him stare forlornly down at his Captain America doll.

“Dad’ll be okay, right?” He poked at the shield and stared down at the painted blue eyes. The doll didn’t answer. “You would protect him if he wasn’t, right? That’s what you do.”

He picked up the toys, rearranged the scene, and, just as he began to crash the cars again, the door downstairs slammed open. Tony jumped, staring down at a woman that limped in. Shiny crutches supported her, and her leg was wrapped in thick plaster to just below the knee. She glared around the mansion, bright red lips drawn down in a frown. She looked behind her, where Tony could see Jarvis helping with the luggage, and huffed out a sigh.

“Stark!” she bellowed, her voice bouncing around the empty mansion and giving it a small spark of life. Tony blinked, noting her accent. The woman hobbled in a few more steps, her brown hair swinging around her shoulders. “Stark, if you do not help me with this bloody luggage, I will burn down your lab. Do not think I won’t.”

A clash, followed by a curse, and Howard Stark stumbled out from beneath the stairs, goggles high on his forehead and white lab coat no longer white. Tony frowned down at them, watched the way his father stumbled slightly but stood up straight. The sickly sweet smell of whiskey curled around Tony and he hunkered down further, holding tight to Captain America and wondering just how badly his father was gone at the moment. The woman seemed nice; granted, most of the women dad brought home could be considered nice at first glance. His mother never talked about it and Tony stopped asking. The woman clicked her tongue and adjusted her crutches, reaching out a hand.

“Peggy!” His father bypassed her outstretched hand and gathered the woman in a hug. Tony bit his tongue in surprise. Hugging? What was happening? His father pulled back. “What are you doing here? I thought you were somewhere over the western seaboard.”

Peggy smiled, a tight quirk of her lips. “As you may have noticed, the mission didn’t end without a few injuries. I’ve been forced on leave. And since Maria cannot stop raving about her little boy, I thought I would come visit.”

“‘Little boy’?” Howard’s face twisted and Tony clutched at his doll. “Oh! You mean Tony. Yes. He’s – well, he’s somewhere around here, I’m sure. Tony!”

Tony startled, squirming backward amongst his cars. One of them careened over the edge, falling to the floor below with a clatter. He winced, wondering how quickly he could dash away to his room. His father would show him off if he went down there, like he usually did whenever new people came to visit. He would push Tony forward, ignore Tony’s uncomfortable fidgeting whenever he tried to shy away. The fear, the overwhelming urge to find his mother and hide behind her legs, had become a constant whenever Tony met new people. His father never allowed him the luxury, however. 

“Tony! Come down here. I want you to meet someone,” his father called again. There were footsteps on the stairs, a quick one-two that had Tony scrambling to move. Howard’s hand snapped out and grabbed him by the collar. Tony tried to make himself smaller, curling around Captain America and hoping his father wouldn’t parade him around.

“Howard, stop with the theatrics. If the darling doesn’t want to meet me yet, don’t force him,” Peggy said and Tony peered past his father at her.

“Nonsense. Tony is fine; he’s just being a child.” Howard tugged at him. Tony bit his lip at the words, that familiar stab of insecurity shaking through him. He was pulled down the stairs and nudged forward by his father, put on display like a brand new piece of machinery. The two loomed above him and Tony looked at the floor.

“Hello, ducky,” Peggy said. She rearranged her crutches, wincing as she carefully kneeled down. He glanced up at her, did a quick scan of her face before looking back at the floor. Peggy continued, “My name is Peggy. What have you got there?”

She gestured at the doll clutched in Tony’s grip and Tony grinned, holding Cap up for inspection. “He’s Captain America! He protects people. I’m Tony.”

Smiling, Peggy tapped Tony on the nose. “That he does, love. Would you like to hear some stories about him?”

“Really?” Tony blinked at her, fidgeting under her gaze. She seemed incredibly kind. “I would. Please. I mean, did you know him?”

“Personally.”

“That’s so cool! Dad, can I –” Tony turned, but Howard was no longer there. He clutched at Cap, looking longingly at the entrance to the lab. He heard Peggy sigh behind him and wondered if she had been lying, if the thought of spending time with him now that his father had disappeared had been a ruse. He tried not to let it bother him.

“Well, Howard is certainly a fool. He used to enjoy the stories about Steve,” Peggy said. Tony turned and she was standing again, fidgeting with the crutches. “Shall we find the kitchen, ducky? I make a fantastic cocoa.”

“Really?” Tony said again, feeling his face flush. No one had ever just wanted to _be_ around him without his father hovering. Peggy frowned.

“Of course. I promised you stories. Lead the way.” She gestured with her crutches and Tony smiled, wanting suddenly to grab her hand. He resisted the urge and shuffled away.

“This way.”

The kitchen was sprawling, excessively large and filled with a mixture of tried and untried tech. The refrigerator’s door had been mangled, wires popping out and curled together, the handle put back on sideways. Peggy eyed it and Tony bypassed it completely, grabbing one of the stools around the island. He crawled up on it, rocking back on the legs once before settling. The coffee machine gurgled something and Tony gurgled back, grinning when it beeped in surprise. Peggy raised an eyebrow and started moving around, leaning her crutches against the wall as she hobbled around. Tony pointed out where Cook kept most of the ingredients, and Peggy set about boiling milk and adding in various items. Tony carefully set Cap on the counter, bending his legs and allowing him a good view of the entire kitchen. He swung his feet and watched Peggy.

“Miss Peggy?” Tony called. Peggy turned and raised an eyebrow at him. “What happened to your leg?”

“‘Peggy’ is just fine, ducky. And I was in an accident. But,” she gestured with a wooden spoon, “I got them back for it. How do you like your cocoa?”

“I don’t – I’ve never had cocoa. Is it good?” he asked. Peggy blinked at him, surprise flickering over her features before she shook her head.

“Quite. Now, ducky, why don’t you tell me a bit about yourself?”

Tony bit his lip, poking at Cap. Experience had taught him that people usually didn’t want to hear about little Tony Stark and his actual interests. They wanted to hear about how he managed to build a computer at such a young age, and whether or not he had anything else in the works as he neared his sixth birthday. They didn’t want to know that he liked playing with his toy cars and making up scenarios for Captain America to save the day. They didn’t want to know that he frequently drew pictures of a family that wasn’t his own, of a father that played with him and a mother that wasn’t afraid to show him affection.

He looked up at Peggy, caught the worry in her eyes and plastered on a smile. “I like to build computers. Robots. Circuitry. I’m really excited to play around with some of dad’s old things when I get a bit older.”

Peggy clicked her tongue, turning around to pull the pot off the stove. “And that is a bold faced lie, isn’t it?” She turned, smiling at Tony’s wide eyes. “You are young, Tony. About five, six? Yes, you may enjoy building and tinkering about with electronics – you are Howard’s son, after all – but I didn’t ask what _Howard_ wants you to say about yourself, I asked what _you_ want to say about yourself.” She poured the mixture into two tall mugs, adding extra snaps of chocolate. “Now, what were you saying?”

Tony flushed. “I – well, nobody wants to know what I like to do, I mean, it’s not amazing like when I made that computer. Or the plans dad wants me to bring up for my birthday.”

With a clatter, Peggy dropped the mug in front of Tony and sat across from him. “Well, I would like to hear about _you_ , little Anthony Stark. What do you do for fun?”

“I don’t.” Tony bit his tongue and wrapped his fingers around the mug. Steam curled up and off and Tony took a tentative sip. “This is really good!”

“Don’t dodge the question, love,” Peggy chided.

“Well, I mean, I _do_ like computers. And robots. I just, I like them when I can make what I want, like a robotic dog! I don’t like that I have to – to create things because everyone expects me to. Oh! And I like cars. And Captain America. Can I have more of this stuff?” Tony gulped down more cocoa, humming to himself. He dipped his fingers in and pressed them to Cap’s face, grinning. Peggy was smiling when he looked up.

“Of course. You seem to really enjoy the Captain. Why?”

Tony beamed. “I’ve heard all the big stories, like how he saved the world from HYDRA and how he was so brave when he was facing down mechanical things and monsters and oh! Dad used to talk about how he would throw his shield and it would bounce back and he would catch it and it was so cool, but dad doesn’t talk about it anymore and I always wonder why because he usually liked talking about Cap. He stopped after I –” Tony cut himself off, blinking down at the chocolate mustache he had managed to give Cap. He wiped it off with his thumb. “I just really love Cap. I know he’ll protect everyone, like he did before. He’s tried to protect me.”

Fingers brushed against his and he jerked back, startled. Peggy was watching him with soft eyes, but they sharpened at Tony’s abrupt movement. He steadied the stutter in his breath and carefully put his hands back on the counter, closer to Cap and his empty mug of cocoa. Peggy didn’t seem the sort to grab, or harm, but he had made that mistake before. He shifted in his seat and fiddled with Cap’s shield.

“And I’m sure he’s done a wonderful job,” Peggy said, drawing Tony’s attention. “But why would you need protecting?”

This was moving into dangerous waters. Tony scrubbed at his face, looked down at Cap and then back at Peggy. He tried on his best polite smile. “I’m sorry, Miss Peggy, I need to go work on things. Things that dad wants me to work on.” He hopped off the stool, scooping up Cap. “Have a good day.”

“Wait, Tony!”

But Tony was already scrambling out the door.

 

He didn’t see Peggy again until dinner the next night, when his mother marched him down the stairs. Low voices were talking in the dining hall and when he entered, they abruptly cut off. His hands felt empty without Cap in them.

“Evening, ducky,” Peggy called. Tony fidgeted and climbed into his seat, staring down at the table cloth. Mother had decided on the white cloth, with little inlays of blue and red. Tony wondered if his father had noticed and carefully traced a three into the designs.

“I’m just saying, Peggy,” Howard started. “We need to figure out the possible probabilities of having such power in our grasp. I know it’s not something you want to look into, I know it brings up all sorts of emotions and feelings that are, in all honesty, arbitrary, but I just need you to _think_.”

The first course was brought out, thick broccoli soup that Tony immediately balked at. He peered into his bowl, poking at the tiny broccoli chunks with his spoon. They disappeared into the creamy broth and Tony made a face. When he looked up, his mother raised an eyebrow, gesturing. Screwing up his courage, he scooped up a small chunk and nibbled on it. It tasted as disgusting as it looked. Tony shoved the bowl away from him, ignoring the chiding look his mother gave him.

“And that is all well and good until you realize the implications,” Peggy said, drawing Tony’s attention. Her face was a thundercloud ready to clap. “SHIELD will continue to hold the cube until we deem it safe. Right now it’s anything but. That type of power, in the wrong hands, for the wrong reasons, could unravel everything we managed to accomplish in the war.”

The plates were shifted out of the way and large chunks of meat and potato were placed carefully on the table. Tony picked up his fork, poking at the meat. Jarvis came to stand beside him, giving him a crooked smile as he cut the meat into smaller chunks. Tony grinned at him and stabbed one of the pieces, chewing loudly. The Cook had outdone herself this time; Tony could taste apple and cinnamon overlaying the meat and he grabbed another piece before he’d finished chewing the first. Jarvis rolled his eyes and stepped back, hands folded neatly behind his back. His mother shared a secret smile with Tony and he giddily ate more.

Across from Tony, the conversation was devolving, Howard gesturing with his tumbler of whiskey and Peggy jabbing her fork toward him. His mother ate delicately and when Tony was done the meat, he sat back and thought of Captain America, all alone upstairs and possibly unsure as to why Tony had left him. Fidgeting, Tony drew up invisible plans and began designing his escape.

“And you think SHIELD has the correct motivations? Peggy, I saw a small percentage of its power, just a little spark, and I was nearly blown up. We need to learn how to _harness_ that and use it to our advantage.” Howard cut roughly at his meat and Peggy glared at him. Tony carefully slid down his chair. His mother caught him with a raised eyebrow and he sulkily sat back up.

“You can talk to the board about that if you’re so bent on this ridiculous idea. I will have nothing to do with the technology that helped kill him. End discussion.” Peggy shifted her gaze away from Howard and Tony winced when it landed on him. “How have you been, Tony?”

“Fine, Miss Peggy,” he replied, poking at his potatoes. Howard huffed.

“Leave the boy be. We have important things to discuss.”

Peggy silenced him with a look. “It is no longer of import, Howard. You’ve had your say, your little babble, and now I wish to converse with the others at this table.” She glanced at Maria. “Thank you for the lovely room, Maria. Is there a chance of a tour tomorrow?”

“Peggy!” Howard wheedled.

“Howard!” Peggy mimicked. “You had me all to yourself yesterday evening _and_ this morning, ranting and raving about prototypes and a new molecular structure you had managed to create. I have yet to speak completely with Maria, nor have I had a chance to tell stories to Tony. You will _behave_ or there will be words, and they will not be kind.”

Tony had never witnessed his father shut down so quickly, tossing back his tumbler of whiskey like it was water. Peggy sighed and tried again. “So, Maria, I love the décor in the living room. Did you have someone help you with the designs or are they all your own? I remember you talking about starting in on fashion.”

With Peggy and his mother distracted, Tony tried again to escape. This time it was his father who caught him.

“Tony,” Howard called and Tony stiffened, sitting up straight. “What are you working on right now? I know you’ve been _distracted_ lately with your little toys, but you need to remember your studies.”

“Of course, dad,” Tony said.

Howard poured another tumbler of whiskey. “I want you to realize that if this continual distraction keeps up, I’m taking that Captain America doll from you. You can’t afford all this nonsense with toys and childish imagination.”

There was a hollow point in Tony’s chest, growing wider. Dad couldn’t take Cap from him. Cap – Cap protected him. Tony looked down at his plate. “Of course, dad.”

There was a clatter as Howard slammed the tumbler down on the table. Peggy and his mother stopped talking, both staring as Howard’s face grew red. “Don’t take that tone with me, Tony.”

“I’m sorry, dad. May I be excused?” Tony asked, keeping his voice from shaking. His mother wasn’t looking at him. Howard narrowed his eyes but nodded. Peggy – Peggy was staring at him with wide eyes.

“Get out then,” Howard said, gesturing with his glass.

Tony scrambled off his chair, feet catching in the carpet momentarily. Jarvis led him out, hand hovering just behind him, and Tony desperately wanted to be alone. The foyer looked massive when Jarvis led Tony to the staircase, and Tony turned on his heel, stopping Jarvis in his tracks. “Thanks, Jarvis. I’ll just head up. If you could tell mom that I’ll see her tomorrow to go to the rose garden?”

And then he ran up the stairs.

The walls were suffocating him. He shoved his way into his room, carefully shutting the door and turning the lock. He sunk down against the wood and sighed, looking around his bedroom. Little pieces of electronic devices were scattered across the carpet, scattered amongst the figures in his toy chest, folded into the creases of his blankets. Tony tucked his legs up against his chest, wrapping his arms firmly around them. His eyes caught on Cap, watching him from his pillow, and he buried his face in his knees and cried.

 

There was a light rap on his door and Tony startled. Toy cars scattered under his frantic hands as he shoved them under the bed, tossing Red Skull with them. He momentarily thought of hiding Cap too, but the pain of being separated again after that discussion with his father – and if it was his father at the door, wanting to continue their conversation from dinner, Tony would need all the protection he could get.

Tony looked around quickly to make sure all the cars were gone, all the maps and plans he had drawn up for a new scenario were carefully tucked away, and gripped Cap tight. He walked to the door and unlocked it.

“Yes, dad?” He carefully eased open the door and was surprised when it wasn’t Howard Stark standing outside, but Peggy.

“Evening, ducky,” Peggy said, voice soft. He gripped the handle tightly.

“Hi, Miss Peggy.”

Peggy shifted her weight, taking the pressure off her bandaged leg, and Tony wondered if it hurt her that badly. Whenever he did scenarios with Cap and Red Skull, Red Skull never managed to harm Cap that seriously. He wanted so desperately to ask but was afraid of the repercussions.

“Can I come in, ducky? I promised you some stories, and I thought tonight would be the best time to tell you them.” Peggy pointedly looked over Tony’s shoulder. “Or I could help you with some of your projects?”

Familiar fear curled up his spine. “No, that’s okay, Miss Peggy. Dad doesn’t like it when I ask for help.”

“Oh, Tony,” Peggy sighed. “May I come in and watch you work then?”

Biting his lip, Tony weighed the pros and cons. On one hand, he wouldn’t be alone tonight and it might be fun to talk to Peggy about his inventions, and about Cap. And his father didn’t seem to have a problem with Peggy, so maybe he wouldn’t get so mad. On the other hand, he didn’t really have anything of import to show Peggy, let alone work on. He just wanted to play with his cars.

Peggy was still watching him. Tony let the chart fall away and nodded.

He moved around the room, clearing space and miscellaneous pieces of junk from hindering Peggy. He noticed one of the toy cars peeking out from under his bed and panicked, kicking it sharply away. It cracked against the wall under his bed and he winced. Peggy made a clicking noise behind him.

“You needn’t worry about cleaning up, Tony. I’m sure I can find a comfortable spot to sit.” Peggy’s voice was still that measure of kind and caution and Tony kind of wanted to duck and hide. No one had spoken to him like that, except his kindergarten teacher, but she was obligated to do so. Was Peggy feeling obligated to stick around?

An uncomfortable silence settles over them both, Tony fighting for words but unsure if he’ll be welcome, and Peggy seemingly unsure how to even start a conversation. There was a rustle of skirts as Peggy sat down on the bed, her crutches tucked neatly against the end of the bed. She smoothed fingers over the comforter, picking out random machine parts and fitting them into a pile. She smiled when Tony shifted closer, turning her full attention to him. Tony looked down at Cap, at the shield that was still attached to his arm and sighed.

“I’m sorry for my behaviour tonight,” Tony said, tamping down the insecurity that flared up. He smiled at Peggy. “It won’t happen again, I swear.”

Peggy sighed, rearranging her skirts and beckoning for Tony to come closer. Tony edged forward, clutching at Cap and holding him protectively over his heart. When he was practically standing beside Peggy’s knee, Peggy took hold of his arm and pulled him up and onto the bed. She then proceeded to hug him.

Tony froze, eyes wide and face trapped against the cascade of Peggy’s hair. Cap pressed tight against his chest, probably digging into Peggy’s side too, but Tony couldn’t move, couldn’t even bring himself to pull his thoughts together because he didn’t _understand_. Peggy’s arms were loose around him, one hand brushing against the back of his head and the other tight around his shoulders. Tony could feel how warm she was, how she was barely holding him in case he wanted to run away. And suddenly Tony didn’t want to.

He dropped Cap, heard him thump against the comforter and threw his arms around Peggy’s neck, buried his face in her soft hair and _clung_. He understood the mechanics of a hug, knew them from watching the few cartoons he could actually stand when he was still too young to understand, but had never experienced one of his own. He had tried to initiate one with his mother once, but she had just tapped him on the forehead and told him she was busy. He had never considered trying with his father, too afraid of the possible repercussions to speak up. This, however, _this_ was something more and it hurt, something painful in his chest shifting loose, and he realized too late that he was crying.

Peggy tightened her arms and started whispering nonsensical words in his ear, rocking gently back and forth, and Tony wanted to fight against her warmth, fight against her comfort. But his arms clung stubbornly and he wondered if this was really so bad, if having someone actually _hug him_ was another activity he should forever cross off his list.

“Hush, there, hush, my love. It’s all right, don’t worry,” Peggy was saying, fingers combing through his hair. It felt safe, here, and Tony sniffled against her neck. “Now, now, ducky, let it all out. It’s all right, I’ve got you.”

 There was the rustle of skirts and Tony was moved, closer until he was curled in Peggy’s lap, face pressed against her blouse and fingers tangled in her sleeves, unable to stop the sobs. She hushed and hummed at him, her accent adding something to her words and he just stayed there, cocooned in her arms, safe from the world outside. Soon his tears dried, a familiar throbbing sensation starting behind his eyelids, and he curled in closer, wondering if this was all right. Peggy smoothed his bangs down.

“It’s all right, ducky. Sleep, now. We’ll talk in the morning,” she said, carefully untangling his fingers from her blouse and he let go quickly, embarrassment causing him to flush. Peggy smiled at him, clicking her tongue. She brushed at his hair again, ushering him under the comforter and tucking it in gently around him. Tony watched her with wide eyes, unsure how he should proceed, and when she pressed a lipsticked kiss to his forehead, Tony couldn’t hide his shock. Emotionally drained, he tucked his knees up close and blinked at Peggy over the edge of his comforter.

Peggy just smiled at him. “Sweet dreams, Tony.”

Tony cleared the lump in his throat, already missing the warmth. “Night, Miss Peggy.”


	2. Chapter 2

Tony peered out of his bedroom after he had woken up the next morning, head throbbing from too many tears. He scrubbed at his hair, wondering if his father was nearby and if his mother would call him down for breakfast. He bit his lip, also curious if Peggy would be there and if she would want to spend time out in the garden. He already knew his mother would tell him she couldn’t come with him when he asked about the rose garden. She had been distant about it ever since his father called her on it. He wondered if Peggy liked roses. She seemed the type.

He moved down the hallway, keeping to the wall. He had left Cap in his bedroom, guarding his pillow, and the bathroom was really only two doors away. However, before he could reach it, the master bedroom door swung open and Howard exited with a yawn. Tony froze, eyes wide, and Howard walked right by him.

“Morning, dad,” Tony called out. Howard didn’t acknowledge him, didn’t even blink, just walked into the washroom and closed the door. Tony bit his lip and decided his bladder could wait. He walked back to his bedroom, eyes on the carpet. He carefully closed the door and sighed.

“Why doesn’t dad like me, Cap?” Tony asked. He pushed away from the door and kicked metal pieces out of his way. “What did I do wrong?”

Cap doesn’t answer him, his blue eyes plastic and painted. Tony jumped up onto his bed and curled up on the pillow, his fingers loose around Cap. “Is it because I didn’t make the computer like he wanted? He said I could do what I wanted with it, that I could move things around! I don’t – I don’t understand.”

Tony peered up at the ceiling. “Maybe it’s because I made that dog for mom’s birthday. He didn’t like that, remember? He said it barked too loud, but I programmed it so she could turn it down whenever she wanted.” He held Cap up, narrowing his eyes. “But he broke it, remember? And then he – yeah, mom’s birthday wasn’t a fun day.

“But do you think that was what it was?” Tony fiddled with Cap’s shield and winced when it fell on his cheek. He brushed it off and extended Cap’s arms. “Or! It could’ve been when I asked too many questions about the real Captain America and what he was like. That’s when dad stopped telling me stories. Maybe that’s what I did wrong?”

Tony rolled over again, carefully placing Cap so he could move his arms. “I just don’t know anymore, Cap. Or understand. How can I make him stop hating me?”

Curling his arms around his pillow, he ducked his face into the material and breathed deep. Cap watched him from over the pillow case. Just this once, this _only time_ , Tony wished Cap could speak and tell him everything would be okay.

 

There was a rap at the door and Tony startled awake, surprised that he had managed to even get back to sleep after his talk with Cap. He yawned, grabbing up Cap and going to the door, rubbing at his eyes. He stalled before opening it, his mind rebooting and cautioning him. He let his fingers linger on the handle, worrying it back and forth before he braced himself and pulled it open.

His breath stuttered out of him when he realized it was Peggy, not his father, and he mustered up a smile for her. Peggy grinned back, reaching down to tap him on the nose. “How are you this morning, ducky? I was curious if you wanted to have breakfast with me?”

Tony peered around Peggy’s hip, looking for his father or his mother. But no, it was only Peggy. He looked up at her, sudden insecurity making him nervous. “If you want, Miss Peggy?”

Peggy clicked her tongue at him. “Oh, ducky, I would very much enjoy your company. Come along now.”

Tony closed the door, stepping forward to subconsciously reach for Peggy’s hand. His fingers brushed against cold metal and Tony startled back, clutching Cap to his chest and turning his eyes to the carpet. Peggy’s steps didn’t falter but Tony could feel her gaze on him as he walked beside her, leading the way down the stairs and into the dining hall.

He opened the door and asked over his shoulder, “What would you like for breakfast, Miss Peggy?”

“Ah, Peggy, there you are,” Howard said from behind Tony and he flinched, a full body wince, and ignored the sharp look Peggy sent him. Howard continued on. “Breakfast is on the porch if you would join me.”

Tony looked down, catching his father’s expression in his peripheral. He backed up, allowing room for Peggy to get by him, and looked down at Cap. He breathed in, took strength from Cap’s plastic smile, and looked up to Peggy watching him.

“I’ll talk to you later today, Miss Peggy. If you’ll excuse me.” Tony ducked his head and made his escape.

“Tony!”

Tony took a left and scrambled into the kitchen. Cook was putting the finishing touches on a large plate of pancakes, different smells coalescing into one mouth-watering dish. She tsked at Tony as he scurried past her, but her smile was kind as she handed him a still warm roll. Tony stopped to poke the coffee machine, which squeaked at him. He squeaked back, pressed a few buttons that really didn’t do anything but cause the coffee machine to gurgle in offense, and turned on his heel.

The kitchen door banged open as he made his way outside, tearing into the roll. His pajamas barely fought off a blast of chilly wind that swept up and under his collared shirt. He tucked Cap under his arm as he stuffed his mouth full of the crusty bread, munching as he made his way to the garden. The grass was dewy under his feet and the mansion a tall, brooding darkness behind him. He could hear the sounds of the city over the trees and wondered when his father would take him to the company again.

The garden was in a secluded greenhouse that his mother originally kept whenever his dad would hide in his workshop. Now, it was Tony’s responsibility and he spent most of his time tending to the roses, carefully keeping them alive. It was fascinating to him, watching organic life change the chemical formulas of water and sunlight into nutrients and, well, life. He could spend all day watching a rose grow, doodling in his notebook and learning the differences between the machinery as wanted by his father.

Sometimes, he would just talk to the roses, telling them stories and wondering if he could eventually give one to his mother, just to see her smile again.

The greenhouse was cool this time of morning, the sun not yet overhead. Water still clung to some of the plants, and the garden off to the side was just beginning to blossom. Soon, Tony would be able to harvest tomatoes and carrots, onions and lettuce, for Cook to use. Tony moved further inside, chomping down on the last of the bread, and wiped his fingers on his pants. The roses in the corner were different shades of red, white, and yellow. Some were even blooming pink, as Tony had found different ways to breed to flowers using the concepts he learned from his father’s books on Darwinism. So far, it was working quite well.

He made his way to the corner, brushing his fingers over the petunias and the lilies, saying hello in his own little way. He smiled when he came across the bluebell, breathing his greetings over the orchids and grinning down at the venus fly traps. When he finally came upon the roses, he knelt down and touched a petal.

“Morning, Thorn.” Tony grins. “I haven’t seen you in a few days. You too, Amelia. I have some cool stories to tell you.”

Tony sat down, surrounded by his flowers, and began to talk. Cap was propped against his side, warm plastic felt even through Tony’s pajamas, as Tony told the story about his first hug. He felt the flowers respond, standing a little taller as the sun tumbled over head. He breathed in the fragrant scent and smiled.

“I’m thinking of doing a cool robot for my sixth birthday. Kind of to appease dad, but mostly because I could program it to help me around my room. You know, fetch me cars, or help me find my notebooks. Oh! I could program it to make my bed, then mom wouldn’t yell at me every time she comes in and finds machinery in my blankets. It would be so cool if I made one that helped me water all of you. Maybe one that played music too; I heard that helps plants grow? Would you like that?” Tony reached out again, touched one of the white petals. “Marie, would that be something you want?”

Tony sighed, leaning back on his hands. “I didn’t even tell you guys the best part, yet. Miss Peggy – well, she’s really nice and really cool and she said she was going to tell me some awesome stories about Cap; she knew him in real life! How amazing is that? But she keeps getting pulled away by dad.” Tony looked up at the ceiling. “I don’t know why dad won’t let me spend time with her. Is it my fault again?”

He rocked back on his hands, kicking his feet up. The sun warmed the air, thick and syrupy with scent. His stomach grumbled, and he said, “I think that’s all for today, guys. I’m getting kind of hungry now.”

Standing, Tony brushed off his pants and turned to walk away. He bumped right into Peggy and fell back down.

“Oh! Tony, love, sorry,” Peggy said, crouching down awkwardly to help him stand. Tony blinked up at her in surprise and then flushed as he realized she had been behind him, when he had been talking to Thorn and Amelia and Marie. He pushed away her hand and stood himself, looking back at his flowers.

“Uhm, hi Miss Peggy. I thought you were eating with dad?” Tony reached down and picked up Cap too.

“I couldn’t handle much more of your father, to be honest.” Peggy glanced around the greenhouse. “Is this all because of you, ducky?”

“The flowers? Yeah. Mom used to tend to them before things got – well, before she got busy. And dad never liked the garden and I kind of always did so I decided to tend to it myself, and I found this really cool book in dad’s study once, on Darwinism and natural selection, so I’ve been breeding the flowers and trying to get new variations and it’s really fun!” Tony bit his lip. “I mean, yeah, this is all mine?”

“Oh, it’s beautiful, Tony.” Peggy smiled at him, red lips stretched. “I think this is your best invention yet.”

Tony ducked his head, grinning at the dirt floor. A thought wormed its way to the front and he wondered, silently, if it would work. Turning on his heel, he picked up his pruning scissors and mused over the colours. The red was the same colour as Peggy’s lips, and he carefully, carefully, snipped it free while whispering an apology. He replaced the scissors before taking a deep breath and returning to Peggy.

“Here,” he said, presenting it to her. Peggy watched him with soft eyes, taking the rose gently.

“Thank you, ducky. It’s gorgeous.” She lifted the rose to her nose, taking a short breath. The colour was the perfect match to her lips. “Now, why don’t you and I grab some breakfast?”

“Okay.”

They left the greenhouse, and its secrets, and Tony didn’t flinch away when he touched the metal of Peggy’s crutches.

 

Tony was playing with his cars again, lining up every street with the map inside his head. The mansion was smack in the middle, being attacked on all sides, and Captain America had been called in to protect Tony and his family from Red Skull’s forces. Tony grabbed some of the smaller army men and lined them up around an imaginary square. He took a red army man and put it in front of two green ones, marking himself as the red one. The cars zoomed by, under the control of Red Skull.

“Surrender!” Red Skull said. Tony moved himself forward.

“Captain America will come and kick your butt if you don’t leave,” Tony replied. Red Skull scoffed at that and sent his forces in.

Sure enough, Captain America landed down beside Tony’s red army man and said, “You dare attack them, Red Skull? No one goes near my family.”

And Tony threw the cars up into the air, scattering army men and destroying imaginary buildings with their carnage. Captain America slammed into Red Skull and they fought while little red Tony got his family to safety. His army man ran back to help with backup, and just as Cap and Red Skull rolled toward the edge, the entire house shook with a resounding _boom_. Tony yelped, dropping both dolls, and the house shook again. Several of Tony’s cars fell over the ledge, followed by Captain America. Tony scrambled to grab him, but it was too late. He hurried to his feet and ran down the stairs, just as his father came stumbling out of his workshop, smoke thick and choking behind him.

Before Tony could bend down to pick Cap up, Howard snatched him by the collar, hauling him back and up and Tony repressed a shout. “What are you doing down here, Tony? I’ve told you countless times that you are not allowed _near my lab_.”

Tony reached back and grabbed Howard’s wrist, wincing at the pull around his throat from his shirt. Howard released him with a disgusted huff, bending down to pick up Captain America instead. Tony felt fear claw at his stomach.

“I’m sorry, dad. I am. I didn’t mean to.” Tony reached out, careful. “Can I have Cap back?”

“This _toy_.” Howard sneered. “How many times have I caught you with this thing in your arms? I did not have you so you could waste your time playing with some cheap rendition of Steve Rogers.” Howard yanked off the shield and peered down at it. “This is nothing like the shield I made for him. This armour is incorrect and the details are nowhere near specific enough. It is a disgrace to his memory and I will not have my son playing with such nonsense.”

Tony made another grab for Cap, terror a cloying mass pulsing in his stomach. “No, dad, I don’t care if he’s a knockoff. Cap – Cap is important to me; _please_ , can I have him back?”

With an icy glance, Howard snorted. “Time to grow up, Tony.”

And then he turned on his heel and walked back to his lab, Cap still held tight in his grasp.

For the first time in his life, Tony Stark sat down in the middle of the foyer, not in his room, and cried.

 

The room upstairs felt cold without Cap sitting on his pillow, without the familiar blend of white, blue, and red in his peripheral. Tony fought back tears, clutching his comforter with one fist as he stared down at the new schematics his father had forced on him at dinner. He hadn’t even had time to say hello to Peggy before his father had handed him a plate of meat and potatoes and the plans for the present Tony was going to present on his birthday. Tony had taken them without a word. Cap hadn’t been anywhere near Howard at the dinner table.

Tony breathed in, and sighed out, ignoring the lingering burn behind his eyes as he scratched out another equation that would bring the entire machine to a halt. If he fixed the two equations near the front of the robot, and replaced the back engine with one of his dad’s, that would help. But then there was the problem with the axel at the bottom, and its connection to the original treads. If Tony replaced a few of the machine parts, with his dad’s help, the robot would move fine.

“I don’t know if dad’ll like what I’m doing,” he said, frowning down. “I mean, he obviously wants me to create a robot, because it has wheels and it can _move_ , but why? Does he want me to program it to do things? What do you think, Cap?”

He looked up and the empty seat in his pillow hit him like his father’s slap. Blinking back unwanted tears, Tony scrubbed at his face. It wasn’t fair. It never was. Maybe it _was_ time for him to grow up. Toys were for children and he obviously wasn’t meant to experience that part of life. So far, the boarding school he had been sent to wasn't too judgemental on the whole toys aspect, but that would change next year. He was six next year. Bringing Cap would just make things awkward.

Glancing at the empty pillow again, he bit his lip, clutching the pencil tighter until it bit into the meat of his palm. But his father shouldn’t have taken Cap away from him. His father had _given_ him Cap on his third birthday. Tony had never been more excited as in that moment. His first real friend. The equations began to smudge, the numbers spiralling into a mess of lines and harsh ink. His eyes watered but none fell. He wouldn’t cry again.

“I can grow up,” he whispered. “I can grow up and I won’t need anyone or anything. I can do all of that and not have things like toys and dolls and Cap. I can do that. I can.”

Tony dropped the pencil and wrapped his arms around himself. Who was he kidding? He wanted Cap. He wanted to play all day with his cars. He wanted to create things for himself and that would bring a smile to his mothers’ lips. He wanted to be a kid.

He wanted to go find Peggy, but at the same time, he couldn’t bring himself to _ask_ for a hug again. It was all right if Peggy offered because that way Tony could justify it, but if _Tony_ asked, it would be seen as weakness. Especially to his father.

It didn’t stop him from wanting to feel that foreign comfort again though. He rubbed the heels of his palms into his eyes and scrubbed away the tears. Focus. He had schematics to finish.

 

Waking up was painful, and not just because Tony had fallen asleep propped against his wall, neck arched painfully downward. He blinked awake and automatically reached for Cap, fingers brushing empty sheets and cold pillows. He became frantic before his mind rebooted, reminding him of his father and his father’s cruelty. He curled his arms around his knees and rested his chin on them, staring blankly at the far wall. The schematics lay rumpled beside him and Tony poked at them with his toe.

Breathing out, he stretched and scrubbed at his face again. Tear tracks marred his cheeks and were sticky against his fingers. He briefly glanced at the clock, noted the three and the thirty seven, and jumped off the bed. No one would be awake at this time.

The hallway was black, a grainy outline to Tony’s eyes. He squinted, reached out for the wall, and started following it to the bathroom. He stumbled just outside his door, when his foot caught against hard metal.

He fell hard, landing on something distinctly uncomfortable and struggled to sit up. There was a groan of pain from above him and he froze, sudden worry that it was a burglar, or worse, his father. He sucked in a quiet breath and said, “Hello?”

“I did not think you would still be awake, ducky,” Peggy said, and Tony sagged in relief. He renewed his efforts on getting untangled.

“I was just going to the bathroom.” Finally, he pushed himself away and scrambled back until he was a safe distance away. “What are you doing outside my room?”

Now that Tony was looking, he could see the fuzzy outline of Peggy’s face, the dark hollows where her eyes would be. If Tony believed, he would think her a monster. Instead, he wanted to curl up against her again, feel that familiar safety. He picked at his pajama top sleeve.

“I knocked several times before your father bid me goodnight,” Peggy said. “But you failed to answer. I assumed you would want this back, and was worried of misplacing it in my room, so I settled for the night out here.” Peggy smiled, her teeth a flash of white in the darkness. “Can we please go where there is light, ducky?”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” Tony scrambled to his feet and held the door open for Peggy to walk through. “Close your eyes!” And then he flicked on the switch.

The first thing he noticed was Peggy’s nightgown. It covered the bandage on her leg and was modest, a light purple with soft frills at the bottom, so unlike his mothers. It seemed strangely misplaced on her frame, as if she should be wearing something tougher to compensate for her injury. The second thing he noticed was the splash of white, blue, and red, in Peggy’s hands.

Excitement jumped through Tony like a shot of electricity. He lunged forward with a soft cry, “Cap!” but he suddenly stalled, common sense roaring to life, and bunched his hands in his pajamas. “I mean, can I have Cap back, Miss Peggy?”

“Of course, ducky,” Peggy said, gently handing Cap back. Tony stopped himself just barely from clutching at Cap, from talking to him and explaining how sorry he was for having let him be taken away. Peggy tapped her nose. “It was the strangest thing. I saw him in your father’s office, amongst the clutter on his desk, and I thought ‘Why, that looks just like Tony’s!’ and when I asked, your father seemed baffled by its presence. So, I asked if I could return it and he agreed.”

She winked at him and Tony couldn’t stop himself, was moving forward without really thinking it through. His arms were around Peggy’s waist, his face pressed tight against her stomach, and he just let himself cry, in joy, in fear, and Peggy soothed him with quiet words. They stayed like that, in silence, until Tony could muster the strength to pull back, clutching tight at Cap and bunching a handful of Peggy’s nightgown in his fingers. He didn’t want to let either go.

“Thank you, Miss Peggy.”

“Of course, ducky. So, seeing as we are both awake, and I sense that you will not be able to sleep now with your friend safely returned, should we sneak down to the kitchen and whip up some hot milk?” Peggy carefully untangled his hand and he went to clutch it to his chest. Instead, she threaded her fingers through his, a gentle smile stretching her lips. It was the first time Tony had noticed they weren’t red. He looked down at their joined fingers and smiled. Peggy continued, “There is a formidable caramel recipe my mother taught me before the war, and the sugar content should be sensible enough that you will fall asleep quite easy, my little duck. You can help stir if you wish.”

Tony didn’t know what to say, didn’t know _how_ to show his gratitude to this ridiculous woman and the way she had blown into his life without so much as a ‘by your leave’. He stared down at the carpet, Cap warm in his arms and Peggy’s fingers clutched tight against his own, and felt the smallest spark of hope. 


	3. Chapter 3

Tony carefully raised the mug to his lips and made a curious sound. The milk was sweet, but not too overwhelming. He swished it around carefully, picking out the flavours, and kicked his legs. It was good. Peggy watched him from the other side of the counter, a soft smile still on her lips and her own mug cooling between her hands. Captain America was perched beside Tony, and Tony couldn’t stop reaching over to grab him every few seconds. Just to be sure.

“Can I ask why your father had Captain America, ducky?” Peggy asked. Tony blinked at her and tilted the cup up again to think. From what Peggy had told him, his father didn’t even remember taking Cap. So, the fact that his father hadn’t had Captain America on him when he had given Tony his dinner and the plans meant his father truly didn’t mean anything by his actions before. He must’ve been angry at the explosion, not Tony’s friendship with Cap. Ergo, his father wasn’t at fault here.

Tony said, “He told me I should grow up. But he forgot about Cap, and he gave him to you to give to me, so he didn’t mean it. At least, I think he didn’t mean it.” Tony mused at his milk, licking around his lips for stray caramel. He should tell Cook about this recipe so she could make it when Peggy left –

Batting that thought away, he looked up. Peggy had a pinched look around her eyes but she smiled at him. “Does your father do that often, Tony?”

“This is the first time he’s taken Cap away but I think the explosion in the lab scared him and he didn’t like that I was so close. That would make sense. I wouldn’t play on the stairs if I didn’t have Cap there to protect me and dad knows that. He didn’t do it on purpose,” Tony explained earnestly. Peggy hummed, sipping from her mug.

“And anything else?” she asked, her voice tentative. Tony felt something wary crawl up his spine. Peggy was giving him a strange look. “What about when you get in trouble?”

Dangerous territory. Tony knew the drill, had it smacked into him the first time he had embarrassed his father in public, and he plastered on his best smile. “Dad usually takes me aside and tells me that I did something wrong and why it was wrong.”

That made Peggy frown harder and Tony squirmed in his seat. He was almost done his milk. He downed the rest of it, scalding the roof of his mouth, but he didn’t care. He didn’t want to tell Peggy all the things his father sometimes did, how the one time Tony had accidentally wandered into his lab with a picture to show him, Howard had hit him so hard his ears had rung. He didn’t want to tell Peggy the one time he spilt grape juice down the front of his clothes at a party, and no matter how much Jarvis scrubbed and scrubbed, he couldn’t get it out, and his father had sat him down and explained every little reasons as to why this fundraiser was more important than Tony himself. Or how Howard would put him on display, using the words ‘prodigy’ and ‘such a success’ the same way he would explain ‘experiment’ and ‘new design’. He grabbed up Cap and faked a yawn.

“Sorry, Miss Peggy, I should go back to bed. Dad wants to start on that robot tomorrow,” he said. Peggy caught his wrist before he could hop down and Tony froze, entire body tensing for the blow that he expected to come flying. He blinked at Peggy and Peggy blinked back, but she didn’t raise her other hand.

Instead, she said, “Would you like to hear a story, ducky?”

Surprised, Tony turned toward her. Her smile was fragile glass waiting to crack and he wondered why. He said, “A story about Cap? The real one?”

Letting out a soft breath, Peggy sat back, but her fingers lingered still on Tony’s wrist. She was no longer holding him still and he strangely didn’t feel threatened by this gesture. He watched her face as she looked up at the ceiling.

“There are many stories I could tell you about the real Captain America, Tony. And many more that I could tell you about war and the Red Skull and the monsters that go bump in the night. I know you aren’t afraid of them, ducky.” Peggy winked, tapping Tony’s wrist. He grinned. “I could tell you all this and more, but the story I want to start with is of a man, a man who didn’t like bullies.

“But before I delve into that tale, shall we move to the living room? There is a touch of milk left, if you wish.” Peggy stood, taking her warmth with her, and Tony suddenly felt guilty for ever believing she would harm him. He nodded and held out his cup, swallowing the mouthful and leaving himself with a caramel mustache. She laughed and wiped it off with a napkin, scooping up his cup and flicking on the faucet. After they had cleaned up and Tony had made sure the coffee machine wasn’t gargling more than its share of coffee beans, he led Peggy to the living room.

There were at least four places that could be deigned as living rooms within the mansion, but Tony led Peggy to the one just beside the stairs, closest to his father’s lab. The couches here were made of supple leather, soft and warm to the touch. The walls were his mother’s choice, a deep red that matched the cream coloured carpet. A large bookshelf took up one of the walls, books carefully alphabetized and categorized. The lamps clicked on with a switch and the room was bathed in a soft gold. Tony climbed up on one of the couches, crawling over to the far corner where an oversized pillow had been thrown. A blanket was draped over the back of the couch and he grabbed for it, carefully stretching it out over Peggy’s lap when she sat down beside him. He curled back against the pillow, feet dangling over the side of the couch and Cap settled against his chest.

Peggy eyed him for a moment and then shuffled closer, her hands snatching up his ankles without warning. And then she proceeded to  _tickle_  him. It caught him so by surprise that he automatically kicked before breaking off into a peal of laughter. She was relentless, tickling him until he had tears streaming from his eyes, chest tight from laughter and smile stretched so wide he thought his cheeks would burst. When he finally begged for mercy, she squeezed him close for a moment before rearranging the blanket, Tony’s head now on her lap and his feet tucked under the pillow. She tapped him on the nose and grinned.

“Next time keep those toes tucked away, ducky. You have one of the easiest ticklish spots,” she warned. He laughed and stuck Cap between Peggy and him.

“You were going to tell me a story, Miss Peggy.”

“Ah, yes, about the man who didn’t like bullies,” she said. Settling back against the couch, she carefully threaded her fingers through his hair. Tony didn’t want to say anything, didn’t want to startle her away, but the touch reminded him of the moments when his mother would dash her hands through his hair, scrubbing her nails over his scalp in reassurance after an encounter with his father. Peggy continued, “You see, Tony, this man was special. Not in that he was stronger than everyone else, no, but in that he was smaller. He was so very little, and fragile in his stature, that many would mistake him as weak. He never backed down from a fight, however, and from what he told me, there were many of them. He was determined to stop the bullies from continuing their tyranny over the quiet streets of New York. This was during the middle of the war, and many were taking advantage of the fact that the men were overseas. This man, this very little man, saw what was happening and each day strove to beat the bullies back.”

“In New York?” Tony asked. “But what could he hope to do? New York is huge!”

Peggy laughed. “Yes, ducky, it is. And that is why what the man strove to do was beyond him at the moment. But he tried. He fought for what he believed in and he continued fighting, up until someone decided to give him a better chance. He joined the army, you see, and with his little self, he never would have made it more than a day’s worth of training. But he persevered because he was, in all honesty, the most stubborn man I’d ever met. He was strong in heart and in mind as well and that, ducky, is more important than brute strength, sometimes. Sometimes, you need a little guy.

“This man completed his training and was chosen to become a special someone. Someone you and I know very well.” Peggy glanced pointedly at Captain America and Tony grinned, tugging him up to sit on his chest. “Exactly. Before all this, though, his name was not Captain America. No, he was just Steve Rogers, someone who had a much larger destiny than just keeping the streets of New York a tad safer each day. Steve was brave, he was selfless, and he had an attitude that many soldiers fought to retain. But he didn’t dash out right away to save the day once he was transformed. He still had much to learn, both about the new body he had been given, and the new choices he would have to make.

“But Steve was again, stubborn. He still wished to fight the good fight, be it on the front lines or throughout America. When he finally made his way overseas, his audience was incredibly brittle, hardened by death and the monsters that go bump in the night. Due to circumstances, Steve felt the need to rescue those that had not returned, to put himself in harm’s way so that he could save those that couldn’t, at that moment, save themselves. Steve saw this, felt it, and with your father’s help, did one of the stupidest things I’ve ever seen in my life.”

Tony interrupted. “I remember this! Captain America went and saved his best friend in the whole world from HYDRA. And dad helped fly the plane out so he could do it.”

“That is right. I’m glad to hear that Howard still spoke of that tiny adventure. I’m sure he neglected to mention that his piloting skills failed at one point and we had to emergency land in a forested area just outside of Lucerne! The walk back to base camp was less than amicable,” Peggy laughed. “However, it was a long time before I saw Steve again, long enough that we thought him dead. When he returned, though, he had – changed is such a strong word, I think I would call it growth. Something in him had altered enough that it settled into place. He was Steve Rogers, but he was also Captain America. He had found his place in the world, and it was fighting back the largest bully there was.”

“And then he won!” Tony said, holding Cap up. “Steve won and he saved everyone.”

Peggy’s smile was sad. “Yes. Yes, he did, ducky. But at a great cost.”

“I know this one too,” Tony said, tucking Cap close. He pushed his head back into Peggy’s hand and she gently stroked his hair. “He flew a plane full of explosives into the ocean so they wouldn’t blow everyone up. Dad looked for him for a long time. I think he’s still looking.”

Nodding, Peggy looked at the far wall, her eyes distant. Tony didn’t want to interrupt her, but he was itching with questions, questions he could never ask his father. He bit his lip and looked down at Cap, at the painted on blue eyes and the fading white ‘A’ on his helm. He said, “What was your best friend like, Steve? Was he really, really brave? Would he be able to tell me stories too if I found him?”

With a gentle sigh, Peggy said, “Sadly, Steve’s friend died during the war. He saved many people before he died, but he was lost to us nonetheless.”

“Did Steve have other people, Miss Peggy? Other friends that loved him?” Tony asked. Cap had a permanent smile on his face, one that had been painted on, but Tony wondered just how much the real Steve Rogers had smiled. Did he get sad, like Tony? “He wasn’t lonely, was he?”

“I liked to think those around him kept him company, Tony. But sometimes loneliness pervades even when we’ve surrounded ourselves with hundreds of people.” She tweaked his nose. “Now, off to bed with you. I will tell you another story another time. Your father told me that you would be returning to school soon? The spring break is almost over, is it not?”

Tony struggled into a sitting position, that general sadness waking in his stomach. “Yeah. I have to go back in a week. Dad says I’ll be coming home for my birthday, but I have to be at the school till summer after that.”

“Well, I shall be here for your birthday, my little duck. Now, off with you. I’ll sit awhile before I head up to bed,” Peggy said. Tony warred with himself, clutching at Captain America and taking strength from him

“Miss Peggy? I’m glad you’re here,” he said, and jumped off the couch. He rushed off before she could respond, but he caught her smile as he rounded the corner. He had plans to think up.


End file.
